


Overkill

by Paragosm



Series: It All Started In Valinor (Familial Ties verse) [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brutal Murder, Caranthir is a little psycho, Gen, I Tried, bad jokes with people's names, delimbing, implied Haleth/Caranthir, just a little bit, nailing people to things, this is why you don't hurt Amras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 18:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paragosm/pseuds/Paragosm
Summary: Amras is shot during a skirmish. This ends well for the archer who shoots him, as you can imagine.





	Overkill

The sun was shining down, down, down, straight onto the clanging metal and shining armor of the warriors and their opponents. It was a small skirmish at the edge of the wooded area of Carnistir's territory, and his brother had come with him on his invitation.

He was now fighting side by side with Amburussa, the redheaded young nér's practiced movements with his short swords held in duel wield making quick work of the foul beasts of Melkor. There was no room for any banter, Loita swinging through the air and hewing limbs from bodies and heads from necks.

Then he heard it.

One of the men in the service of the Dark Lord among them drew back a crude bow's string.  
And the _twang_ of the bow sang.

He heard his brother cry out and drop the sword in his right hand as he reached to grab at his thigh, the movement knocking him truly off balance. Carnistir's eyesight grew red, as he spun around to stand over him, hewing those who came close. He no longer could stand it, and as the rest of his and his brother's soldiers finished off the rest, he roared and lept at the archer.  
He tackled him to the ground and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his axe before anyone could react.

The sounds of metal on metal went silent as he got up and turned around, vision starting to clear. He knelt at Amburussa's side. "Are you alright?" He questioned him roughly, nasty blood lining his mouth and coating his face from when he tore a large chunk of horrid tasting flesh from one of the orcs with his teeth.

"Merely a flesh wound, Carni." He said weakly, looking up at him. "Nonsense, let me see." He hissed, gently lifting his leg up to look. He huffed at the arrow piercing his brother's flesh and took the swords from him, passing them to his herald Laucion, and looking about and calling for Huinëedur , the young nís who was this units healer. 

She rose from treating a young soldier's cut across his shoulder, the non-noldorin nér who had ventured too far away alone and had come across them recently, his normally honey colored hair strewn with mud and half his armor off. Carnistir admitted to himself that he might have taken a far better -and more appreciative- look had the situation not been what it was for everyone involved.

As he waited for Huinëedur to look over Amburussa, he dragged the unconscious archer over to where the horses had ran off to once they lept off them after being ambushed. He soothed Nyelecca the eleventh, the normally calm stallion shaken after the sudden shock, then threw the limp body over his back and led him and Amburussa's liver bay back to the site of the skirmish, the not injured and mildly injured piling up the bodies in a pyre so they could dispose of them before they started rotting.

He knelt beside his brother, and looked at Huinëedur. "How is he?""His hamstrings have been cut, Héru Carnistir. He won't be able to walk for awhile, but besides that the damage is minimal as long as infection can be kept away." She replied, holding out the snapped off arrow shaft, as she had left part of it and the head in the wound.

He looked over it then snapped it into pieces slowly and threw it far away. He looked about. "Burn the bodies, and help the wounded to the horses. We move out within the hour." He ordered, gently picking up his bandaged brother. "Yes, Héru Carnistir!" The obedient reply came. 

***************

They had arrived back at Carnistir's halls in Thargelion. Amburussa was resting and fidgeting. "I cannot believe I'm trapped for so long." He lamented. "You aren't trapped, Amburussa." Carnistir said with a chuckle, settling down on the bed. "You just can't walk. If you asked, I'm certain several people would be willing to move you to somewhere else.""That won't be necessary." He said quickly.

"That's what I thought." The dark-haired nér said laughingly to his red-headed younger sibling. "Here, I brought you a honey cake and some spiced wine.""Thank you." He muttered. Carnistir left the room after kissing his brother's forehead and Amburussa mutter of "I'm not an elfling anymore" in response.

He made his way down to the border, where the prisoner had been chained to a post and left to the elements. "Hello, filth." He hissed out at him. He knelt in front of him, murder filling his eyes as he coldly smiled. "You speak Sindarin. What is your name, thrall?" He grabbed his face in his hand, gripping hard. "Speak.""I will not bow to the red demon of the north!" He spat in reply, hissing as the grip on his jaw tightened. "I said, what is your name, wretch?" He said coolly, the heat from his hand starting to be uncomfortable to the archer.

"Heruling." He said, feeling the sweat building up. The freckled nér laughed maniacally as he pulled his hand away from his face. "Heruling? Well, my lordling, your throne awaits." He said with a sneer, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to a large tree-like structure. "Haul him up." He ordered to Colë and Teciliel, the two níssí who'd volunteered to assist in the execution. 

They obeyed, and roped him to it. Once they finished, he got up in his face. "So, lordling, do you know why you are here instead of already dead, fallen victoriously in battle?""Because you have no spine and couldn't kill me?" He taunted.

"Oh, no, human. You are here because" he nodded at Colë to get the nails "the redheaded nér you shot, and the only one among us you actually hit, is my brother." He said, picking up the heavy nails. "His name is Amburussa. And no one touches him if they want a quick death." The man paled.

"Teciliel, nail him to it." He said, standing back as the man screeched and writhed as nails were driven into his body. "Release the ropes." His body dropped slightly, and he screamed more as the nails driven into his body now supported his entire weight. Carnistir got back up near him. "Kill me now, if you have the balls, you motherfucking devil!" He growled, interspersed with sounds of pain. 

"Oh, Heruling, your lordship" he said, eyes lit up from the depths "I don't give out such mercies." He swirled on his heel, grabbing Loita and using his momentum to bury the axe in the humans right arm. This continued, the ropes being fastened again as the last supporting limbs were hacked off. 

Heruling had long passed out, and Carnistir's bloodlust was sated. He knew why they called him a red demon, and he didn't care. He finally struck a nail through his chest and another through the head, effectively killing him and hanging the carcass. 

He went back to Amburussa after a quick dip in the cold water and a change out of his bloodsoaked cloths. They laughed and talked, Carnistir giving him a sampler to practice with as a way to illeviate the boredom.

***************

Haleth turned her gaze on Caranthir, the infamous Bloody Lord of Thargelion staring straight ahead as his pitch black horse, tacked in armor, made long strides. She pulled up her smaller chestnut he'd given her up short when she caught sight of...something. "What" she said "in the bloody hells is that?" 

The skeleton was tied up on a tree-like structure, and clearly years and years had passed since it was first put there, the bones old and weathered. "That" he said, tone deadly cold "is a warning.""What in the Gods large world did they do?" She said, realizing all the limbs were severed from each other after she dismounted and got a closer look.

The dark lord turned, also having dismounted, eyes gaining a fiery flicker. "He shot my brother." She turned her gaze to the body. "I see." As she mounted her horse again, she noted the handful of snow in his fist, melting far quicker then it should, freezing in midair as he threw it and returned to his horse.

"We should continue around the border." He said, not looking back as he spurred his fiery mare onwards. She had to give another glance back, then shuddered only a bit.

'Another reminder the Bloody Lord's name isn't so undeserved, in the end.' Haleth thought, brain reeling with the danger of the elf. 

Good for her, she liked danger.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh....I wrote a thing?


End file.
